Spring has finally come to my town, the Village of Peninsula, population 602. We have had 2 days with sunshine and without rain! The redbuds are in bloom; people are emerging, smiling, welcoming the green that isn’t mold. Take a look at Spring in my Valley. And, as always, please feel free to leave me a comment, or a stone (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by. Then wander on over to My Town Monday to see what other folks have to say.
So there we were, working on new pieces, when, in the distance, we thought we heard bagpipes. It was hard to be sure; the river was running fast and high from all the rain we’ve had. I ventured outside, grabbing my camera, “just in case.” And there he was, playing his bagpipes to the river. I’m told he comes by every now and then to play to her; this time we were fortunate to hear him, too.
See what other folks have to say about their towns over at My Town Monday. Did you know this is the 100th MTM post?
My mother-in-law loved rhubarb. But she really loved springtime. Because springtime meant fresh local rhubarb, and that meant rhubarb pie. I think that she loved making the pies for her son and husband more than she loved the unique sweet-tart confection.
Since I planted for both of us, we always talked about what to put in the garden. Besides the usual tomatoes (pronounced to-mah-toes), beans, and squash, she would tell me how much she loved new potatoes with the dirt still on them, mesclun greens, blueberries and raspberries fresh from the garden. But what she really wanted was rhubarb. Rhubarb still warm from the sun. So I planted some. Over and over again. Each spring I would wander out to the garden searching for signs of rhubarb. And each spring, when my mother-in-law would ask me, I would shake my head and sigh. “Well, luv,” she would say, “there is always next year.” And so it would go.
My mother-in-law died suddenly last July, before the tomatoes were ripe, and before we had the opportunity to plant again. But this spring, as I sloshed my way out to the garden, I glanced over to the place where I perennially planted rhubarb. There it was, Rosemary’s Rhubarb.
So this year, these hands and this heart will honor the woman who called me her daughter-in-love. I shall make a rhubarb pie.
****
My Town Monday is where folks like you and me share a bit about their lives in the places they call home.
We’ve been in the Village of Peninsula, Ohio, population 602, for 22 years. We have made changes along the way, as we and the gallery have evolved. But last week, when the bridge on Main Street was closed so the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad’s tracks could be replaced, we decided it was time to do some things we’d wanted to do for a long time.
So take a look, at things in our neck of the woods this Monday. When you’re done, wander on over to My Town Monday, to see what other folks have to say about the places they call home. And, as always, feel free to leave me a comment to let me know what you think, or a stone, (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by. And Happy Spring. It’s been a long time coming.
I have often said that we all live in the same town, spinning on the same spaceship we call Earth. The enormity of what has happened in the past week is hard to describe in words; and the photos are surrealistic. This is beyond imagination. Each story, each photo, is more intense than the previous one. But in the midst of all of this, I believe in the human spirit, and our connections to each other and to the Universe.
There is beauty within us and all around us; our studio and gallery are in the middle of the Village of Peninsula, nestled in the beautiful Cuyahoga Valley National Park. Take a moment to see one of my favorite trails in the Park, the Tree Farm Trail. And, if you are so inclined, say a prayer for those of us who are facing challenges that we cannot fathom.
As always, please feel free to leave me a comment, or a stone (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by. And take a look at what others have to say about the places they call home, over at My Town Monday.
I love the vertical nature of this time of year, where the subtlety of tone and shadow are quietly present. There are no leaves to soften the vertical lines of winter’s trees; they punctuate the blanket of white that cloaks the earth.
I would be remiss if I did not talk about this winter of 2010-2011, the winter that has seemed as if it will never end. We just had more snow—12″ or so, wet heavy stuff that coated the dogs, rendering them snowballs. It’s not that snow is unusual in my neck of the woods; rather, it’s the relentless cold and gray that has accompanied it this season.
We’re told to expect heavy rain in the next day or so, and that flooding is possible. Typical for this time of year, the temperature is supposed to plummet, followed by more snow.
The quality of the light has changed, and birds are singing their spring songs. Buds are swelling on the trees; people are out and about in the Valley called Cuyahoga, hungry for a patch of blue sky and a bit of sunshine. Me, too.
Take a look at what other folks have to say about the places they call home, over at My Town Monday.
It’s been quite a winter in my town, the Village of Peninsula, Ohio, population 602. We’ve had our share of cold, ice and snow, with high winds thrown in for good measure. Gray skies are the norm this time of year, and the few blue ones that we’ve had have been greeted joyfully. It’s hard not to talk about the weather!
Things are changing, though. The quality of the light has shifted, and the birds are beginning to sing their Spring songs. Soon American Goldfinches will be sporting their yellow feathered coats, rather than their gray ones. The snow—and there is a lot of it—insulates the ground, and underneath it all, all kinds of life are waiting to emerge.
It’s like that in the studio, too. We’re working on new pieces, and our daughter is working with us to develop new glazes. None of this happens without thought, study and intuition. The tools of our trade include passion, heart, intuition and our hands. Take a look at some of the other things we use.
As always, please feel free to leave me a comment, or a stone (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by. Wander on over to My Town Monday, to see what other folks have to say about their towns.
I have mused about art many times, both here and internally, it’s creation and what it brings to my life. I have posted variations on this post as I continue to think about art. What is it’s purpose? Does form follow function? What makes a piece work—or not? And why should I buy it. Why buy art?
My friend Cat Bennett has addressed the question thoughtfully and eloquently:
Why buy art?
-To lift your spirit
-To expand your spirit
-To meet your spirit
-To brighten your day
-To brighten your home
-To brighten your life
-To honor an artist
-To declare your value
-To have fun
-To know yourself
-To inspire yourself
-To inspire others
-To share your wealth
-To laugh
So many reasons.
Art feeds the spirit and soul; it brings light and life to being. Art can make your heart sing and your spirit soar. Something that comes from the heart through the hands. It is no accident that there is art in heART.
When you support an artist, you affirm the creative spirit. You have the opportunity to see the world in a different way, as the artist’s vision is manifested in the piece he or she has made.
When you buy art, you support your local economy, both the economy of your community and the economy of the spirit. You enrich your life with the feeling and intent the artist has instilled in the piece. You can know that you are buying something that was made with care, one at a time, by hand.
Look for the mark of the craftsman, that which lets you know that the piece was made by a person and not by a machine. That which lets you discover the beauty in imperfection and in the profound nature of being. That which embraces the natural cycles of life and authenticity.
These skilled hands wish you and those close to you happy, healthy, peaceful and loving days; and healing and peace to this amazing blue planet we call home.
SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARTISTS: BUY ART.
As always, please feel free to leave a comment, or a stone (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by.
Take a look at My Town Monday to see what others have to say about the places they call home
What do over 120 volunteers, a train full of excited children, and a guy in a red suit have in common? If you had been in my town last week, you would have seen the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad’s special run of the Polar Express.
Vehicles full of people began to arrive in the Village. They proceeded to the depot, emerging in festive attire. The cars kept coming. Soon the tracks were lined with elves, gingerbread folks, snowmen and other fantastic characters. Santa rested on a bench, waiting for his moment.
Doug drove his special train into place. All was ready. Soon train whistles were heard in the distance, coming closer by the minute. As the train pulled into the North Pole, the elves went into action, waving as they welcomed the train.
This was a special train, filled with children with special needs, their families and caregivers. The excitement was palpable. The wee train with Santa aboard rounded the corner, and Santa waved to the children on the train. The train pulled out, and another train pulled into the Village; this one also had special passengers. Once again,the elves and Santa shared their magic, and the train departed, taking it’s special cargo back. Then, as quickly as they arrived, the 120 volunteers departed. It was quiet. But for those moments, their was no question that we were in the North Pole, sharing magic with kids and families who understand what it is to BELIEVE.
As always, feel free to leave me a comment, or a stone (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by. Wander on over to My Town Monday to see who has to say what about the place called home.
While a lot has changed since this photo was taken in the early 1900′s, the Peninsula United Methodist Church still sits on the corner of Main and Locust, it’s renovated steeple punctuating the sky.
Horses and buggies have been replaced by cars and trucks, and few people chance walking down the middle of Main Street any more. Folks in our neck of the woods take their holidays seriously. The Garden Club has been decorating the bridge over the river called Cuyahoga for a long time. And merchants and residents dress up their homes and store fronts for the season.
Our Elements Gallery, along with the Peninsula Art Academy, are inviting artists to donate artwork to Heart, Hands and Home, our gift to the women who are serviced by the Battered Women’s Shelter of Summit and Medina Counties. The artwork will be given to women and children for birthdays, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and the winter holidays. Stop in and visit us and the PAA for artist crafted items throughout the holiday season.
The Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad runs a special seasonal train, The Polar Express, complete with elves and hot chocolate. They also partner with Heritage Farms, a family owned tree farm that is more than 160 years old. Folks can take the train into town, choose their tree, stop in the Village to shop and get back on the train; the tree they have chosen is loaded on the train for them. Many families have made their trip to Carol and Kim’s tree farm an annual tradition.
On Sunday, December 5, from 1-4:30 pm, flutist Debora Roznovsky and organist Hazel Broughton will present a series of 4 petite concerts at the historic Bronson Memorial Church on Main Street. This Christmas concert and sing-along are a gift to Peninsula’s residents and visitors.
This little Village, nestled in the magnificent Cuyahoga Valley, sits along the river by the same name. It’s a place where you can walk up the hill to the post office and the library; you can explore the side streets and trails and still have a lot to see. The Village of Peninsula, built by the hands and hearts of generations, gently resisting change since 1837.
Come back during the rest of the week; I’ll be posting more photos of the Village dressed in it’s holiday finery. And, as always, feel free to leave me a comment, or a stone, (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by. Take a look at My Town Monday to see what others have to say about the places they call home.
So there we were, working on new pieces, when, in the distance, we thought we heard bagpipes. It was hard to be sure; the river was running fast and high from all the rain we’ve had. I ventured outside, grabbing my camera, “just in case.” And there he was, playing his bagpipes to the river. I’m told he comes by every now and then to play to her; this time we were fortunate to hear him, too.
My mother-in-law loved rhubarb. But she really loved springtime. Because springtime meant fresh local rhubarb, and that meant rhubarb pie. I think that she loved making the pies for her son and husband more than she loved the unique sweet-tart confection.
I have often said that we all live in the same town, spinning on the same spaceship we call Earth. The enormity of what has happened in the past week is hard to describe in words; and the photos are surrealistic. This is beyond imagination. Each story, each photo, is more intense than the previous one. But in the midst of all of this, I believe in the human spirit, and our connections to each other and to the Universe. 
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